


A Lost Cause

by needles



Series: Bokuaka Detective drabbles [24]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needles/pseuds/needles
Summary: Keiji liked order, it was ingrained in him, along with rigorous scientific discipline. Disorder and chaos led to mistakes and he abhorred mistakes. He soon finds Bokuto Koutarou is not conducive to maintaining that order at all...
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Bokuaka Detective drabbles [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116251
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	A Lost Cause

Keiji strolled into his office; it was early, so early that the only two occupants of the lab were himself and the night security guard who went off duty at six a.m. He loved the peace and tranquillity of the early mornings. That was when he could think most clearly and he liked to get all the routine paperwork out of the way before the rest of his colleagues turned in.

But not today.

He stood in the doorway surveying his office and gave a loud exasperated groan. It had to stop; his office was a sanctuary, a place of order and logic, a place for him to think. He had always kept it in meticulous order, neat, tidy, organized. Everything had its proper place and everything was in it.

At least it used to be.

Most people would have said it looked like an average office, but to him it was disorganised chaos. Files piled on his desk in untidy heaps where they hadn’t been put away; many of them in the characteristic covers that indicated they belonged to police cases. A scatter of pens and pencils; unwashed coffee mugs, and half eaten granola bars. A muffin that probably resembled the texture of a fossil it had sat there so long. His kit was open, with loose bags and latex gloves piled in the top where they had just been left after a long day in the field.

It had to stop.

As he set to work tidying and filing he told himself that this situation could not continue. One person was responsible for this and one person only. He had stormed into Keiji’s lab, his office, and his life like a tornado, and left a trail of destruction and disarray in his wake. Detective Bokuto Koutarou had taken over and it was high time Keiji put him firmly back in his place. No way could he be allowed to waltz into Keiji’s place of refuge, dragging him off at all hours to crime scenes. Rushing him to and fro, unable to finish one job before he hauled him off to the next. It was Bokuto’s fault that his office looked like a bomb site.

And he had done the same thing to Keiji’s apartment, it was littered with pieces of his clothing, his favourite foods filled Keiji’s refrigerator. His deep freeze contained nothing but portions of mac-n-cheese ready to be re-heated on late nights. His trash cans were overflowing with take-out cartons. As to his home office, he had barely seen the inside for so long he had almost forgotten what colour the walls were. He had a book to finish and his publisher was rapidly running out of patience.

Keiji stormed about his room sorting and clearing, repacking his field kit, and cleaning off his desk. By the time he was done it looked pristine, except for the overflowing trash can. Stuffing the trash down as far as he could he gave a sigh and sat in his chair, finished! He looked about him, smiling at the order restored. Then he spotted something and frowned. Getting up he reached under the bottom edge of his couch and pulled out first one and then a second brightly striped sock. He sat back down holding them up, studying them as he puzzled out how they came to be stuffed under his couch. Then his eyes widened as his memory reminded him. He gave a slow smile, then frowned and shook his head firmly. No he would not weaken, not even at that memory. The socks had no place in his office. But he couldn’t throw them in the trash, and he certainly wasn’t taking them home to wash. He opened a drawer and pulled out an evidence bag. Opening it he dropped the socks inside. Then he sealed it, took a sharpie, writing on the label ‘Property of Detective Bokuto Koutarou, Homicide Division’, and dropped the bag in his outgoing mail tray.

There, done.

He switched on his laptop; finally he could get to work. Outside his door he could see people arriving, technicians, Washio, Konoha, some of the interns. It was almost seven. 

His eyes drifted from his loading screen to the photo on his desk of himself and Koutarou smiling at the last Department Ball, he snorted and turned it face down, no more distractions. The words of the old South Pacific song floated through his head. _'I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair...’._

He was clearing e-mails at a rate of knots when familiar footsteps made him freeze.

“Morning Keiji!” Bokuto greeted him cheerfully, placing hot coffee and his favourite donut on his desk. Keiji raised his head unable to prevent a smile only to have his lips captured in a sweet and tender kiss. “You sneaked out early, when I got up your side of the bed was cold.”

“I had work to do, this place was a mess.” 

Bokuto picked up the sock bag and grinned. “I’ve been looking for these, where were they?”

“Under the couch.”

A slow seductive smile crept across Bokuto’s face. “Oh yeah, I remember. We should do that again Keiji.”

“This is my office Bokuto san, not a tart’s boudoir,” he replied, sternly.

“That Keiji is what makes it such a turn on,” Bokuto said, bending down and kissing him again. Then he jumped up and rubbed his hands together. “Can’t stop to play now though, grab your kit, we have a case.”

Keiji groaned, why did he have to say those words, and smile like that? He felt all his carefully nurtured resolve draining away like water down a drain. He shut his laptop and picked up his kit. _‘Face it Keiji’._ He told himself sadly. _‘You have let him in to your heart so deep you can never be rid of him now, and frankly you don’t really want to. Admit it man, you love him, it’s irrefragable, you’re a lost cause so you may as well enjoy it’._

“I do love him, don’t I?” he whispered to himself.

“What was that Keiji?”

“Nothing Bokuto san.”

Bokuto lifted his partner's chin with a finger and his eyes bored into Keiji’s. “Are you sure? I thought I heard the L word escape your lips?”

Keiji glared at him. “Yes, alright, you win, I admit it. Bokuto Koutarou I love you. I am a hopeless sap about you.” He grabbed the evidence bag back from Koutarou and stuffed it in his pocket. “I will even wash your socks. Now can we get to the crime scene before I humiliate myself in front of the whole lab?”

“Just one thing first Keiji.” Bokuto smiled, pulling him into a bear hug. “I love you too and I apologise for turning your life, your office, and your apartment upside down. I promise that I will clear up my own mess and give you time to breathe in future.”

“Koutarou how did you know?”

“I know you Keiji.”

“Apology accepted, now if you know me so well you’ll know I want to get to that crime scene before the evidence gets compromised.”

“You’re the boss Keiji.” Bokuto grinned, ushering him out.

“Mm, just you remember that Koutarou.” he smirked.


End file.
